


an invitation to sleep in my arms

by temporarybones (oneyike)



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canonical Character Death, Other, Pre-Canon, Song writing, a practice in sustained voice ngl, all of them are a little bit edgier than what i mean for them to be, all ships are like... implied, also, and basically everything but donny/davy is a little shippy so far, but like know that i am not opposed, eveeything abt tjis is a new brain, okay wayne and donny is also not a ship thing, personally i do be blaming the tour cast. they said poly nova band rights., please listen to a new brain, technically a 6+1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22933171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneyike/pseuds/temporarybones
Summary: donny's not the only one who can't sleep.or6 moments shared between different members of the band and donny, usually late at night, and one time it was someone else.(this exists on a realm outside of musical canon, and i play with time as much as a damn well please)(small edits made on april 5th 2020)
Relationships: Donny Novitski/Julia Trojan, Donny Novitski/Michael Trojan, Jimmy Campbell/Donny Novitski, Julia Trojan/Michael Trojan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	1. maybe we'll say no words; just saying nothing is sublime

**Author's Note:**

> .................. hes sleepy bros.  
> anyways. all lowercase bc thats just how i type stories!!
> 
> i love u.
> 
> these are posted in relative order.  
> davy - pre musical entirely, completed  
> jimmy - pre donny nova band, completed  
> wayne - during the like, in between period pre-julia, in progress  
> johnny - in new york, in progress  
> nick - not written yet and no ideas but probs will be like introspective just post-welcome home reprise, not in progress quite yet  
> julia - post-musical, completed  
> +1 - a secret surprise 👀👀 ? not in progress

for davy, drinking isn't enough.

(theres not enough liquor in the world to drown his sorrows, or to make him forget what he's seen.)

all he can do stay awake and glare at the moon, at the people passing by, at the people in the bar thinking maybe he's had too much. because he hasn't. and he never will.

tonight, there's some scrawny twenty-something on the keys. he looks haunted and exhausted, but something about his playing makes it seem freeing. he watches the whole show.

watches the owner of the bar announce his name- (danny, donald, donny… something.) but doesn't catch it. doesnt particularly care, either way. watches as all the energy seeps from the guy, (a puppet with cut strings,) as he limps to the bar, sitting down before pressing his hands to his eyes. 

davy feels bitter. angry at the world. wonders what this kid has gone through to make him think he can act like this, like he thinks he knows pain or suffering, like he can hurt and pretend that no ones watching. then shakes his head, because that's unfair, and he fucking knows it. he checks his watch. its nearing 2 am. this kid's gig ran long.

he stands, and makes his way towards him. he watches the kid tense, slapping a smile on his face and trying to look like he wasn't one wrong move away from crying his eyes out.

"calm down, kid," davy says, plopping heavily down on the seat next to him. the kid, danny or donny or maybe something else entirely, bristles at being called "kid", but davy couldn't care less. "seems a little late for you to be out."

"i," the kid sighs, slumping, "i honestly dont even know what time it is." he laughs, high pitched, both melodic and grating. they both wince listening to it. davy motions for a drink. "you're old enough to drink, right?" davy asks, though he knows no one cares anyways.

the kid stiffens, defensive. "of course i am. n-not that it matters," he stumbles over his words, like he's trying to be cool. uncomfortable silence falls over the both of them, donny sipping the whiskey given while davy stares into his own cup, debating the amber liquid.

they don't talk for the rest of the night, not knowing what to say, but as al starts shuffling out customers and handing donny his money, donny counts out a few bucks, and leaves it next to davy before leaving himself.

davy downs his drink and pockets it. the kid is already gone but, who is he to refuse money, these days?


	2. i dont think that now's the right time to have too much hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i like this one.
> 
> each of the fics are supposed to be from the other persons perspective so i tried to switch up writing styles to fit how i see their internal monologues
> 
> fic and chapter title from 'an invitation to sleep in my arms' from bill finn's musical a new brain!

jimmy and donny, as much as the former loathes to admit it, had an immediate connection when they met. jimmy doesn't know what it is, and donny isn't helpful when asked.

(jimmy thinks he knows. that they both know.)

jimmy usually has trouble sleeping, but don't they all? donny especially, but he can't say he's surprised.

there was a time, a few days span, when donny was living with jimmy. donny had gotten back later than all of them, and was still struggling to find his place among it all. he assured jimmy that it wouldn't be for long, just a few more gigs and he could get an apartment.

(secretly, jimmy was pleased with the whole arrangement.)

as hard as he tries not to think about those few days, his thoughts often drift astray and linger anyways. there's one night, in particular, that stands out most.

he remembers waking up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath and clutching his sheets. not hearing anything from the other current resident in his home, having no one to talk to, he decided that he needed to go for a walk. glancing out the window, he could tell it was approaching dawn soon enough, and gathered a coat and set on his way, not bothering to check donny's- the guest bedroom.

only to be surprised by donny outside, smoking as he stared up at the moon. donny was equally surprised, and quickly dropped his cigarette, grinding his foot on top of it to snuff it out.

"jimmy! it's a surprise seeing you out this time of night," his breath smelled like smoke, which both disgusted and intriguied jimmy. the scent of it was clinging his clothes, permeating the air, his jacket most heavily. 

(it somehow smelled delicious, and the thought alone made jimmy want to throw up.) 

jimmy quirked an eyebrow. "same could be said to you. why are you outside?"

donny chuckled nervously. "oh, y'know. i needed the fresh air," he was normally a better liar than this, but jimmy supposed he couldn't fault him. it was barely past 2 in the morning. jimmy leaned on the wall next to donny.

"i didn't know you smoked." he says instead. donny sighs. "not actively. it's just to… relieve stress. i don't know. it's been occasional since i was... 13? maybe?"

jimmy was surprised he was being this open. he supposed that was the moon, giving those who secretly wanted to the power to tell the truth. or maybe it was just how donny was, when he was fried and close to burning out in a spectacularly glorious fashion. 

(he was only concerned for his friend.)

he nodded in response.

"how long have you been out here?" 

"uh, i don't know. an hour? two, maybe?"

"jesus, donny, it's freezing out here! go back inside!"

donny chuckled, and glanced nervously at the 3rd floor of the building, before looking back at jimmy with soft eyes. 

"come with?"

jimmy did.


	3. i'm off to your place for a date with mr. clean!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wayne is an introspextive bitch!
> 
> chapter titles is from. "an invitation to sleep in my arms" from bill finn's musical, a new brain

to be perfectly honest, wayne doesn't really like donny.

donny was sporadic and loud, the only things consistent about him was the inconsistency of his sleeping patterns and his pefect piano playing.

he was quick to anger and slow to understand anyone else. he rarely thought things through and tried to exude authority he didn't have over them. and he seemed so much less... damaged. than all of them. he wasn't a drunk, not really. he didn't count obsessively, certainly didn't live his life in any kind of routine. didn't talk about his time over. wasn't hopped up on pain pills from an injury overseas. he seemed... fine. okay, even.

and quite fucking honestly, wayne doesn't know why he ever agreed to join the band.

it was never going to pay well, it would disrupt his routine, it would take him from his family…

but donny could write. he had a spark, he was all survival instincts, and he was a breath of relief.

rarely.

especially nights like this.

...

"why did you call me to deal with you?" wayne hissed out through clenched teeth, ignoring the itching feeling he felt spreading from the arm slung around his shoulders.

"'cause, wayne…" the over-tired, over-drunk, over-grown Child he was escorting mumbled, "julia said she'd punch me if i called her again, johnny's already helping davy, nick doesn't like me, and i don't want to bother jimmy."

"so you bothered me?"

"well. yeah… you're like, a dad. i never really had one of those. i respect you. i'm sorry, i won't do it again. probably." the words took a while to come out, which bothered wayne, because it was so inconsistent from donny's usual elocution, and it took even longer for wayne to register what he just said. 

it made him freeze, and look at donny strangely. stared, more like. he doesn't particularly enjoy it when the band opens up to him, but it seems to happen more and more. donny only looked confused, glazed eyes sliding over to wayne.

"…why'd we stop?" he slurred, dazed. wayne shook his head, and picked up his previous brisk, measured, pace. left, right, left, right, left right left right leftright leftright leftrightleftright- "nevermind, donny. don't worry about it."

"mhm…" donny mumbled. "hey, how do you… uh…. what's the… the fucking uh… shit, i don't know. i can't think."

wayne snorted. "no question. how much did you have to drink?"

"lost count after 4. strong stuff. also forgot what comes after 4."

"5."

"oh, you're right! wayne, you're so smart. do i tell you that enough? you are. you're a lifesaver. i'm glad you agreed to join this stupid band idea. we'd be awful, and lost, and terrible without you." donny sighed, wistfully.

wayne shook his head. "you're all perfectly capable musicians, donny. you'd be fine without me. not great, but fine."

donny grinned. "you're most certainly right. you always are!"

wayne was surprised by the giggling that came with that statement. how old was donny, again? how had such a good kid gotten so corrupted by a system made to protect?

the thought soured his mood.

how did it corrupt him?

he finally realized that maybe donny wasn't okay either, and that thought made him just a little bit more bearable.


	4. at least tonight, go fly; while i depart in hope, not in sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i lost johnny's... voice ? at the end there :/  
> but i still loke the ideas :)
> 
> chapter title from the same a new brain song :)

new york was beautiful.

everything was tall and shiny and new, even if it smelled awful, and the people were rude. it was all new and fantastic.

plus, everyone seemed just as confused as him, which johnny saw as a blessing.

not that he necesaarily wanted the band to be confused, and turned around, and all kinds of mixed up, but it felt like they were all on level ground for once, and he can appreciate that.

he just wishes he remembers the trip better.

he can remember sharing a room with the rest of the guys, or, actually, at least 2 of them, donny and davy. maybe jimmy? he's unsure about that.

jimmy always seems to be around wherever donny was.

it was all blurry and mixed up and frustrating, but thats all of johnny's life these days, so he supposes he can handle it.

handling it is harder than holding tight to the steering wheel as it flipped three times, three times, i'm telling you, but it's just as worthwhile.

he does remember donny pacing at night, and hushed conversations, and hallways, and bathrooms, davy leaving to get more drinks, and maybe it was just to get away from the intensity of donny, but johnny likes him.

he's genuine, and loud, and doesn't hint at his feelings, which johnny appreciates. donny doesn't make himself guessing game, a puzzle to figure out.

it's a relief in this world, this town, this band, where everyone looks at him with pity he can't understand with faces he can't really remember and-

johnny's smart. he knows he is. his memory might be hazy, and... maybe so is everything else, but sometimes stuff comes in clearly.

the important stuff.

his medicine makes him slow. he knows that. it doesn't always make him tired, but he can't play the drums like he needs to, and sometimes he can't do anything but lie awake and stare at the ceiling. 

he thinks donny relates.

well, he Thinks the band relates, but he knows donny can. he remembers it. 

while the rest of the band was having their night of debauchery, having fun, staying out late, johnny turned in early.

his back hurt, his head hurt, he couldn't stop clenching his fists, like he was holding something, and he just couldn't let go, he can't let go, three flips, three operations, don't let go, dammit johnny, you can't let go, hold tight, one, two, three, hold On-

so he took his medicine and went to the hotel.

donny hadn't gone out at all, nervous about... something. so he was in the room when johnny came in. at first, he thought he was asleep.

the lights were off and the curtains were drawn, and donny didn't say anything when he entered, but as he walked closer he knew donny's eyes were open.

they travelled over the ceiling blankly, not really catching anything. 

johnny laid next to him.

it was late, too late, but the band was still out.

"when my jeep was flipping," johnny whispered out of nowhere, and donny glanced at him, "i wasn't really… there."

johnny doesn't know what happened to donny. 

no one did.

donny nodded.

"i kn- i remember….. i know it happened." johnny continues, voice halting and he was so frustrated, why couldn't he just fucking Talk?

donny, bless him, stayed quiet. didn't feed him words, didn't rush him, didn't make him feel stupid.

"i know i'm lucky. i wish you were too."

donny's breath caught.

"we'll be okay, don."

he looked at donny, and donny looked back.

the bed beneath them was comfortable and the room was cold.

donny looked away. johnny watched as a lone tear streaked down donny's face.

"...his name was michael, and it's my fault he's dead. we- new york was our dream. our plan. he could play the drums like no one else, and every day i think of him and i die with him. over and over again. i can never forgive myself for him."

johnny considered this. he reached down, found donny's hand, and locked their fingers together.

he blinked, looking up at the blank ceiling now. "i'll forgive you."


	5. tomorrow they'll strap me down on a bed; and remove the top of my head!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw - theres . very subtle references to suicide?? nothing is explicitly stated.
> 
> also i rlly decided to commit to anb chap. titles huh. anyways i wrote this at 4/5 am so. its not fantastic.
> 
> also. i edited johnny and nicks chapters a little too today (4/5/2020). jsyk.

none of them had heard the "original" welcome home before last night, and all this shit feels more real the afternoon after, on the train back home.

and none of them had heard about the extent of donny's problem, either.

during, donny had refused to look at any of them while julia couldn't keep her eyes off of them, donny especially.

johnny looked unbothered, but he was so numb-skulled, maybe it didn't matter anyways.

wayne looked put-out, never one for feelings.

jimmy had looked nothing but resigned, the picture of grace.

davy looked like he was having the time of his life, until julia started talking about him.

and donny. well, donny was … wild. nick knew donny had barely even looked at a bed in the past week, even after the broadcast, and last night was evidence of that.

… 

"smoking is a disgusting habit." 

nick watched donny jump, back tensing before be spun around to comfront his "enemy."

nick couldn't help but smirk.

"jesus christ… warn a guy, yeah?" donny turned back around.

nick frowned as he advanced. it wasn't like him to avoid a fight, not that he even wanted a fight.

all the guys, and gal, had gone back to their rooms pretty soon after the broadcast. it was enough that their dirty laundry had been aired out to dry on live radio, all the contracts and trouble they ran into right after the performance was enough to drive even jimmy to madness.

nick had only stepped out for a second, onto the balcony the height of their rooms allowed, and there was donny.

having a cigarette, leaning over the railing, staring at the overwheling expanse of new york.

nick already had a fucking headache.

donny didn't flinch as nick slid in next to him, shoulders 3 inches apart. his hand went to his mouth, he took a drag. nick couldn't help but watch the end light up for a few seconds, before watching the cigarrette drift to the ground, so far below, as donny dropped it.

he'd never felt more fucking uneasy.

he watched donny exhale, before running a hand through his hair, dragging it down his face before looking at nick.

"what time even is it?"

"fuck if i know."

"fantastic. you here to taunt me? sit together in companionable silence? ask about what you heard? talk me down from an edge? shit, i don't even know. what do you want, nick?"

donny's voice got more tired the more he dragged out the questions.

"what edge? the edge of the railing? i'd like to see you get up there," nick, what the fuck? he asked himself.

but, thankfully, donny just huffed out a laugh, his shoulders dropped. 

"fair enough." he shrugged. 

nick had never seen him with less energy.

"i don't know. it's just… new york wasn't just my dream, y'know? it was michael's, too. i could not tell you how many times he talked me through some shit with it. there is a train, and what not. fuck, i still say when i get panicky!" donny tensed up as he spoke, talking faster and starting to gesture. "it feels wrong to be here without him. it feels wrong to be around julia! fuck, nick, it feels wrong to be alive, sometimes!"

nick just stood silently. donny didn't seem to care. his eyes were wild, his hand reached up and pulled at his hair.

"fucking… and the whole everything at the- whatever, my brain is being useless right now i can't fucking think, it's like- who do we think we are?" he looked directly into nick's eyes, nick couldn't look away. "what the fuck can we even do? what are we doing?"

donny was panting. at some point, he'd turn to face nick completely. the attention was borderline overwhelming. 

"right now we're shouting on a balcony late at night, don. i'm thinking you probably need a nap, or a drink. at the very least to calm right the fuck down. who cares who we are, donny? we're having fun. or at least we were." he shook his head. "i mean, jesus, kid. it's no use overthinking it. you won't get answers. i won't get answers. hell, i don't think there's any answers in the first place." 

evidently, the other man didn't like that. 

donny scoffed. "christ, nick, that can't be it. is this how you always think? no matter you're a stuck up prick. and, yeah, no wonder i'm an overreacting ass, but a nap? what the fuck will that do for me?"

"fuck if i know, donny, it was a suggestion. who knows the last time you even fucking slept, always waking us up at 5 am with your fuckin' masterplan… though maybe you got an answer to one of your questions though."

"fucking what? what question?"

"you asked who we are. well, we're a stuck up prick and an overreacting asshole."

he laughed, shook his head. nick watched donny sink to the floor. "this conversation makes no fucking sense. go to bed, nick. i'll get you up in the morning, i'll have travel arranged, tell whoever else that, yeah?"

nick didn't have the knees to sit next to him. he settled for ruffling donny's hair, already slight greasy from left over product and donny's constant fussing.

"get some sleep, novitski. seriously."


	6. maybe we'll laugh too loud; maybe we'll dance and you will sing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omg finally i can post julias chapter!!! i wrote this... Months. ago. around october or november of 2019. thus ive had a lot of time to toy around with it. i love most of it pretty bad.
> 
> once Again. title chapter is from the anb song with the same name as the story.

the old piano in julia's living room hasnt been touched since before michael left. 

(she knew how to play, not spectacularly, nothing like donny, but she likes to entertain the idea that she's good at it anyways.)

so when one night, after the war. after the broadcast, when she hears the soft notes coming from a few rooms away, she's more than confused. june had taken some sleeping pills and would be out until 7 am, but she had always been a light sleeper.

she glances to her right, and finds the bed empty of any other people. /donny/, she thinks, and stands, pausing only to wipe her eyes before drifting out of her- their- room, one hand on the wall to guide her steps, following the notes of the piano.

theres a small, warm, light radiating from the living room, and she blinks instinctively from the difference. the floor barely creaks as she walks, used to her weight, and she pushes away from the wall, and walks into the room. 

donny sits hunched over the piano, a dying candle resting on the top while he utilises moonlight from the open window next to him to write notes, muttering to himself.

julia smiles warmly, listening to his disjointed ramblings. she clears her throat, and his back tenses, and he straightens instinctively. julia walks closer, and winds her arms around him. she bends down to lay her head on his shoulder. he melts into her, his whole body sighing, and rests in her arms.

she smiles again, amused and curious. "inspiration strike?" she asks, and he simply huffs out a laugh. "you could say that. did i wake you? i'm sorry. go back to bed, julia," he speaks softly, and turns his face to gently nuzzle hers. he feels cold to the touch, and julia shivers as she takes notice of the temperature of the room.

"'s fine, donny," she replies, and stands strsight. he makes a displeased noise in the back of his throat, and turns to watch her. she walks to the couch, grabs a few throw blankets, and drapes them around him, leaning into him as she does. "let's work on a song?" she asks instead.

donny nods. "i was toying with this?" he offers, stretching out his hands from the warmth of his blankets, and started to play.


	7. i hope you'll understand/if i simply kiss your hand/and say goodnight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i may have fucking forgot that i didnt finish this.
> 
> whoops.
> 
> anyways, here's rhe + 1. there were so many lyrics i couldve chosen but this one was nicest, i think. i wrote this at 4 am after editinf all the other chapters.
> 
> also isnt is so fucking funny that im like donny is jewish but here im like oh ya he says a hail mary... get ur religions straightened out
> 
> chapter title, is, as always, from an invitation to sleep in my arms from a new brain

the cannon fire was overhwhelming, it was blistering hot, even in the rain, and his skin was crawling. distantly, he could hear michael yelling orders, but couldn't parse anything out.

his gun was held tight to his chest, his eyes squeezed even tighter shut. he thinks he's praying, one final hail-mary, but he can't hear himself over the guns and the screams and the rain and-

"-ski! nova!" there are hands on his biceps, and he opens his eyes to see michael. it's dark, he can hear rain but its muffled.

michael smiles at him, and donny feels more comfortable than he has in months. have the cots always been this fucking nice?

michael's at ease, a lit cigarette hanging from his lips, he looks disturbingly beautiful. lighting flashes and he's lit up, and he looks like an angel and the devil rolled in one. war is hell, but michael wears it well.

donny pushes his shoulder affectionately, and sits up, rubbing his eyes. his ears are buzzing and the air in the tent feels different than usual.

"what time is it?" don mumbles, and michael shakes his head. "fuck if i know, you woke me up with your thrashing."

donny reaches over to the bedside table, shakes a cig from the pack and lights it without thinking until-

he blinks. has there always been an end table in the tent? he can still hear michael's breathing, there's a rustling as he opens a magazine, donny has no clue how he can even see it in the dark, it's always been a talent of rubber's, and he takes a drag, the smoke working to clear his head.

shouldn't there be more people in here? he hears breathing that isn't his or rubber's, still deep asleep, and shakes his head.

"haven't you seen all there is of that? it's not like it's a new copy," donny bitches, like always. michael's grin warms some part of his heart as he shakes his head, the lit end of the smoke drawing nova's eyes.

"you youngin's with your short attention span, isn't one enough for you? for life?" he teases. donny laughs. he feels restless, still, but the company's making it better. 

michael twists the magazine this way and that, making jokes as he does, donny quipping back when he can. it's easy, it always is with michael, but he can't help but notice that rubber's cigarette never gets shorter, there isn't smoke coming from his friend's mouth, and the jokes are seemingly starting to loop, and donny's just about to ask when-

"donny?" a distinctly not-michael voice asks, though he watches rubber's mouth move. his smile turns suddenly softer, the magazine is gone, and he finally pulls the cigarette from his mouth.

donny frowns, and a light clicks on, he glances over and suddenly.

too suddenly, too easily, too quickly, too heartbreakingly, michael is gone and julia is there instead.

she rubs her eyes, sitting up, and donny forces tears from his eyes and he takes a longer drag of the cigarette, deeper, trying not to choke on it.

"who were you talking to?" she asks, staring at him with wide eyes, eyes that aren't michael's kind-hearted ones, full of mischief and trust.

donny shakes his head. his breath is caught somewhere in his chest, the buzzing is just a little bit louder and some part of his brain is whispering, there is a train, it leaves the station at a- while his heart screams 'get out'.

"don't worry about it, julia. it's nothing."

she doesn't accept this, frowns at him, reaches out, but he stands up instead, moving faster than he has in years.

"i have a song idea, i'm gonna go work on it for a bit," he manages, and she instantly has thousands of protests on the tip of her tongue and he flees the room before she can start.

when he's made it to the hallway, which is blessedly dark and julia-and-reality-free, he swears to god he can see michael.

rubber's mouth is open, still managing a grin, and he looks like he wants to say something, but donny can only stare, before pushing past him.

"there is a train," donny whispers, clenching his eyes shut, "it leaves the station at a quarter after five,"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this hurted ill say. i rlly want to write more bandstand stuff, but i probably wont, im terrible at staying focused.
> 
> but i love michael. i kinda imagine him like a bj hunnicutt kinda man, yknow? his love for peg (julia) and hawkeye (donny). god. i rlly am talking abg mash.
> 
> anyways! i love you. thank you for reading.


End file.
